


The Blank Space

by JenTheSnarryShipper



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, snarry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-10 09:20:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10434573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenTheSnarryShipper/pseuds/JenTheSnarryShipper
Summary: RATED EXPLICIT FOR A REASON! SMUTTY SNARRY ONE-SHOT!  After the war, Harry is experiencing some symptoms of an illness--an illness that Severus Snape is familiar with.  Will Snape help him, or leave him to suffer?





	

**Author's Note:**

> RATED EXPLICIT FOR A BLOODY REASON! :) Please comment, it gives me so much inspiration to write more for you all. What can I say? I've been naughty.
> 
> Also I own nothing, and JK Rowling (& Warner Bros. Entertainment) slay my life. I wrote the story but I don't own any characters so just enjoy it!

**The Blank Space**

* * *

“Harry?”

Ron waved a hand in front of my face.  He looked concerned, as usual.

“You were looking again, Harry.”  Hermione placed a gentle hand on my arm, but then she took it away just as quickly. 

After the war ended, everyone knows not to touch me.  Everything and everyone I touch either dies or gets severely hurt.

It’s my curse.  The Boy Who Lived has to kill everyone else in order to survive.  That’s what no one _wants_ to hear, but it’s true.  And you know what’s even _more_ ironic?  I discovered my fame at age eleven: right on my birthday, when Hagrid saved me from the Dursley’s.  I walked into rooms, and they would go completely still.  Everyone knew my name.  They knew more about me than _I_ did, really.

So if I’m so bloody famous, and have all this attention, why wouldn’t they listen to me?

I didn’t _want_ anyone to die.  I didn’t ask for this!

I’m not delusional.  In my eyes…well, I’d consider myself a murderer if not for one fact: I killed Tom Riddle.  Voldemort—the one person who caused me this life.  Who knows how many people he’s murdered? 

The point is, the _only_ reason I don’t consider myself a waste of space is because I prevented Voldemort from killing anyone else.  I ended the war.

Not singlehandedly, no.  But apparently, according to some batty prophecy, I was the only one who could destroy him.

I personally have always considered that prophecy as shite.

Some hero I am.

I blinked, starring down at my half-eaten food.  The Great Hall always seemed to be so loud.  Maybe it’s because I’ve spent the majority of my life in a closet, or maybe it’s because Voldemort’s voice inside my head placed me in an even smaller box, figuratively speaking.

The only way I can ever block out the noise…

“Harry, please tell us what’s going on.”  Hermione insisted, looking concerned again.  Ron, too.

“M’sorry.”  I couldn’t muster anything greater than a mumble of an apology.  They watched me get up, and I chose to walk away to collect my thoughts.

I glide out of the doors, about to go into the dungeons.  It’s about the only place no one would think to find me.

Ironically, my safe haven has become the potions classroom. 

I crack open the door to see empty seats.  Everyone is away at dinner.

I sigh, walking over to Snape’s desk.  This is where I sit when no one is watching.  This is my only comfort. 

I don’t usually question why I happen to like it here. 

_Maybe it’s because I know the truth about Snape now, maybe not.  One thing’s for certain: he’s alive, and I saved him.  I saved someone other than myself, someone I care about—_

Anyway, like I said, I don’t think about it in detail.  I just take the moment in, and I enjoy the rush of contentment. 

His chair: it smells of sandalwood, and it’s been the most comforting aroma since I’ve defeated Voldemort.

I like to bury my head in my hands on his desk, just enjoying the mixture of sandalwood, ink, and some other smell I can’t quite place.  It’s probably him—but I don’t think about that, like I said before.

Typically, I’ll sneak in past curfew with my invisibility cloak, but…I wanted to be alone.

“Potter?”  I hear his typical sneering voice.  I chuckle at myself—I must have some imagination.  _There’s no one here but me._   I’m coaxing myself, calming down. 

The entire desk rattles from a loud _boom_ , and I feel myself practically jump out of my skin.

_Oh, shite._

“Will you explain to me what you are doing here, Mister Potter?”  He says, standing next to me.  _When did I stand up?_

“I…”  For some reason, I can’t say anything more.  I sigh heavily, looking at his facial features.  His thin lips, large nose, and coal black gaze.

Is he concerned?  He looks it.  I feel strangely touched.

“Potter—Harry.”  He tries, “Why do you like it here, of all places?” 

He surprises me, but I really shouldn’t be surprised.  Of course Snape knows I’ve made more than one trip down here…even _with_ my invisibility cloak.  The man was Dumbledore’s spy, for Merlin’s sake.

I clear my throat.  “I don’t know, Sir.”  I decide to tell him more.  His eyebrow is raised anyway, so I know he’s not satisfied with my short answer. 

“It’s peaceful.  I don’t like crowds, and no one would think to look for me here.”  _Is that enough?_   I think to myself, looking to the corner of the room, then back at him.  “I’m not…no one labels me here.  I’m just a person…not the Boy Who Lived.”  I sigh with a breath.  _It was probably too much._

His face softens.  The small creases between his brows disappear—he even looks younger.

_Does he understand?  No.  How could he?  He’s Snape…_

“Hmm,” he looks like he’s pondering something. 

_I wonder what he looks like when he’s smiling.  It’s hard to imagine—I’ve only seen him sneer or grimace._  

His right eyebrow is raising itself at me again.  I want to snort, but I bite my lip instead, suppressing it.

_Is he really that old?  Everyone thinks he is, but maybe it’s because of his façade.  Tall, dark robes, long dark hair…coal black eyes, staring at me—_

“ _Potter_.”  He stated.  “Don’t you know it’s rude to stare?”  He rubbed his temples, pinching his eyes shut.

I shake my head, as if to rid of all my stupid ponderings. 

But, all I can think of is how Severus Snape would look like if he smiled.  _Why am I thinking about Severus bloody Snape smiling?_ I try to will away the thoughts, but it’s no use. 

_Had Dumbledore even seen him smile before he died?_

_I know I must be bloody insane if I’m thinking about Snape being happy._

But I _am_ thinking about it, I realize. 

Seconds later, we’re still standing in the same places without word.  Snape and I.  Alone.

I look into his eyes again.  He looks focused…

_Oh, shite.  He’s using occlumency._

“Indeed, Harry.”  He says, pulling out of my thoughts. 

And, for some reason, my name: _Harry_ , just rings through my head in the most calming way. 

_Indeed, Harry._   The cultured tone ripples through my mind like peaceful waves, and I replay it over and over.  _‘Harry.’_   _It sounds so good when he says it.  As if my existence means something._

_I wonder if he knows he has a calming voice?_

“Do you require a visit to Madame Pomfrey?”  He squints at me, looking genuinely worried.

I feel my mouth curl into a small smile.  No one has asked me that—not once. 

I chuckle.  “No, Sir.” 

He crosses his arms.  “Is there something funny I don’t know about, Potter?”  Now his plain sneer is back—probably a mask.

I sigh deeply.  “I wish there was, Sir.”  I mumble under my breath.  _Almost nothing is funny to me, anymore._   “First time I’ve laughed in a year…” I didn’t mean to say out loud, but I couldn’t take it back.  Hell, Snape is probably still reading my mind anyway.

Who gives a shite?

“Harry…” Snape says, shaking his head in annoyance.  He holds out his hand.

I stare at it, and then I look back up at his face.  He isn’t sneering, but he isn’t smiling either.  _Does he want me to take his hand?  What the bloody hell…_

“Sir?”  I say.

“You are displaying signs of…illness.  An illness that I am familiar with.  If you come with me, I can help you feel better.  But _only_ if you cooperate.”  He says in that calming voice again, like music to my ears.

I shrug, “Haven’t got anything to lose, I suppose.”  I tentatively take his hand.  This is when I realize I’m shaking.

He grips mine firmly, pulling my hand a bit.  “Come.  We shall speak somewhere more private.” 

He is leading me somewhere, and all I can do is think of how soft his hand is.  _Isn’t that ridiculous?  I always thought his hands would be calloused, rough, and damaged._  

But as I brush my fingers against the back of his hand, where they are firmly placed, his skin is soft, smooth and warm.  And for some reason, it feels like a jolt of electricity is shooting through my heart each time our hands rub together.

_How peculiar.  In our previous occlumency lessons, he always grabbed my hand, leading me down the stairs…why hadn’t I noticed?_

I realize we have stopped moving.  I look up at him— _how long have we been standing here?_  

His eyes are not completely black, but I feel his gaze heavily weighing on me.  I can’t seem to speak or move.  _Oh God, he knows I’m thinking about how soft his hands are…_

He smirked at me.  “Let go of my hand, Harry.”  It’s as close to a smile as I’ve seen on him.

_Shite!_   I removed my hand from his.  My face feels hot—maybe Snape is right.  _Maybe I’m just sick, like he says_.

He opens the door to his chambers. 

From all those rumors I’ve heard, I expect there to be vials of shrunken heads, or maybe chains.

Instead, there is a fireplace next to a black couch and chair, and a chess table. 

On the left, there’s another door, probably leading to his bedroom…

_Did I just wonder about his bedroom?_

_Anyway, I guess I do wonder what it looks like in there.  Snape’s bedroom.  I’ve never imagined it.  I used to imagine him sleeping in a coffin at one point, actually._

I almost snicker aloud, but I don’t.  _There aren’t any chains or torture devices, either._

His hand is on my back as he gently pushes me inside.  “Don’t worry, Potter.  Despite the rumors, I do not torture my students.”

I walk in, feeling red in the face for even having those thoughts.  I turn to him, “You called me Harry before.”

He smirks at me again.  “Shall I continue to call you ‘Harry?’”

I nod, “Yes Sir.  I think we know each other well enough by now.”  _Especially since you read my thoughts, you git._

He raises an eyebrow, “You may call me Severus, if you so desire.”  He sits on the couch.  “Come join me so we can discuss your…illness.”

“Alright, erm, Severus…” I try out the name.  I quite like it, but I don’t know why. 

After I sit down next to him on the couch, I begin to feel dizzy.  I rub my forehead.

“Harry—what is it?”  Snape asks me, looking at my scar.

“It isn’t my scar, if that’s what you mean.”  I lean back on the sofa.  “I’ve been feeling dizzy, ever since the war has ended.”

Snape nods.  “ _Accio_ glass of water.”  He summons the glass.  “Drink this.”

I half-smile and take the glass.  “Uh…thanks S-Severus.”

He nods once curtly.  “Harry…as you well know, my ability to use occlumency is skillful.”

I gulp down some of the water before I say, “Yeah, I know—you used Legilimens on me earlier.”

He snorted.  “That, and every night that you have snuck into my classroom _after_ curfew.”

I sigh in defeat.  “How many points are you going to take?”  _Here it comes._

“What?”  It’s the first time I’ve seen him baffled.

“Erm…you know.  That’s what you do.  I do something wrong and you usually take points from Gryffindor.”  I raise an eyebrow at him, trying to be snide like him.

It isn’t working.

“Potter—I mean, Harry—I haven’t informed McGonagall of your staying past curfew.  Do you really think I’m here to take house points from you, brat?”  He sneered.

I don’t know why, but it makes me smile.  “Well, it isn’t _that_ hard to believe, but why don’t you tell me why I’m here.  You said I have an illness.  Am I sick, then?”

“Yes, but not in the way you’d expect.”  He starts again with that deep voice, captivating me.  “Like I said before, I’ve been reading some of your thoughts. 

“I know that you have been contemplating suicide, Harry.  I’ve also studied you at lunch with your friends: you hardly talk to anyone, you hardly eat, and you soon leave to isolate yourself.  These are all symptoms of clinical depression.”  He says in an even tone, studying my facial expressions.

_Well, shite._

My mouth opens, but no words come, so I close it again.  I lean back onto the sofa again, drinking more water.  _It isn’t like anyone would miss me—I’ve saved the wizarding world from Voldemort, and Ron is closer with Hermione than me now anyway…_

He lays a hand on my knee.  “Harry, I am aware that your life has been nowhere _near_ easy, and that I might not be considered a…‘friend’ to you by any means.”

I snort at that.  _Snape, as a friend.  Gods that’s a good one._

“However,” he starts again, as if I hadn’t snorted, “I can help you.  You do not need to kill yourself.  You must live, Harry.”  He says with determination in his eyes.

“Why do you care, Snape?”  I say annoyed.  “I thought you hated me.”

He creases his brows, getting irritated.  “I had a part to play, Potter!  Don’t you think the Dark Lord would have suspected something if I was nice to you?” 

_He took his hand away from my knee.  Damn it._   Then I catch myself thinking it— _why did I just think that?  Doesn’t matter…_

I nod.  “Okay, fine.  But you still hate me.”

He sighs in agitation.  “I do not _hate_ you.  I admit, I didn’t like you at first, but it was only because you looked so much like your father.”

I roll my eyes.  _Not my first time hearing that I look like my dad_.

“Alright.  Why don’t you just get to the point already!” 

He rolls up his sleeve—not showing his dark mark—but showing cuts on his other arm.  I gasp as I find myself tracing the marks etched onto his skin, and I rub my own arm, where I know my cuts are hidden.  _Why did I just do that?_   I touched Snape, and I felt…a thrill?  _No, that can’t be right._

“Oh.”  I say, stupidly.  I realize my fingers are still on his arm, but his gaze is locking me in place, and I feel like I can’t move. 

“Yes.”  He breathed, “I too have had depression, Harry.”  I feel my hand growing warmer on his skin. 

I shake my head, “I-I’m—” 

“If I’d killed myself, I couldn’t have saved you.”  He said.  “I never would have forgiven myself.”

I feel something wet on my face.  I use my other hand to touch it— _am I crying?  In front of Snape?_

I was expecting him to laugh.  I felt myself shaking, so tired and worn out.  Tear after tear came down, and I couldn’t breathe properly. 

_But why would I be crying for Snape?  I must care…_

I gripped his arm, trying to breathe again, but I just…couldn’t.  I start to hyperventilate. 

“Harry—you’re having a panic attack.  I need you to breathe.”  He said in the softest voice I’ve ever heard from him.  I gripped him harder, taking a shaky breath.

It wasn’t enough.  Both my hands were on his arms, pulling him closer out of instinct.  I felt like I was drowning, gasping for air, until he embraced me.  He wrapped his arms around me, drawing a calming circle on my back. 

Between quiet sobs, muffled from his shoulder, I could breathe again.

“I-I-I’m S-Sorr—”  I was still shaking, even in his embrace. 

“Shh,” he whispered in my ear.  His breath was hot against my skin.  “It will be alright, Harry.”  _Gods that feels nice._

I relaxed in his arms, holding on.  I wrapped my arms around his back, holding him closer, so I could smell him.  _Sandalwood and ink…_

I moaned into his robes.  I heard him chuckle—and I wished I could have seen him smile.

I chuckled back, realizing the obscurity of the situation.  But I don’t move.

“You deserve to live, Harry.”  He breathed the words against my neck.  I licked my lips, and felt my cheeks burning.  _Embarrassment, probably…_

I turned my head so I could smell his neck and hair.  It wasn’t greasy at all.  “Thanks…Severus.”

I felt his breath catch when I used his given name.  My hands were rubbing his backside, exploring his robes.  I hadn’t hugged someone in so long—perhaps he hadn’t either.

His hands weren’t moving, but mine moved lower.

He questioned, “Harry?”

“Mmm?”  I said, still captivated by the moment of another person hugging me.  No one’s ever hugged me for that long before. 

“What are you doing?”  He asked softly, carefully. 

“I dunno,” I replied hazily.  “You’re so warm.”  I said against his neck, rubbing his leg.  It felt…nice.

I felt him try to push me away with his hands on my chest, but I pulled him closer.  I chuckled, “I don’t want to move yet.”

His hands grazed upward, trying to gently nudge me away. 

I heard him let out a shudder, but then he stiffened.  I decided to slowly pull away from him—it was obvious that he was uncomfortable.

I realized my hand was still on his leg, and his palm was still flat on my chest.  I looked at him.

He had such a genuine expression on his face.  No sneer, no lifted eyebrows: just sincerity.

I looked closer at him—he really couldn’t be _that_ old.  _He looks so much younger when he wasn’t sneering_.

I licked my lips—which he noticed right away, but said nothing.  He gazed at my mouth intently, and I tried to ignore the fact that…

_No—I will not think about it_.

I drew in a breath, but no words came from my mouth. 

He took his shaking hand from my chest, placing it over my own hand on top of his leg.

He lingered there, looking as confused as I’ve ever seen him.  He stared at our hands, then at my eyes, which strangely didn’t make me the least bit uncomfortable.

_Strange…_

My feelings were growing stronger, and I knew what they were.  But… _I just can’t…_

His hand was warm on mine, and I knew he was just trying to comfort me.  There’s no way he feels the same—he just wanted to be supportive.  _Who knew Snape could be so gentle?_

I had to say something.  “Severus…” was all I could manage.

He blinked, expressionless.  “Harry.”  He paused, “Your mind is like an open book.”

I froze.  _Oh God, he knows._

“You really should learn how to occlude.”  He purred with his satin voice.

“I…I…” _don’t know what to say_.

“I can’t give you what you want.”  He said, straight faced.

“…Do you, erm…know what you want?”  I asked, knee to knee with my professor.

His expression changed.  “Why should you care what I want, Potter?”

I shook my head.  “I just do.  You’ve read my mind.  You should know…Severus.”  I tested.  My face felt red.

He looked slightly shocked at my honesty.  “Why me, Harry?  Out of all people—you truly…” he trailed. 

I gave a shy smile.  “Want you?” 

I reached up with my hand, touching it to his cheek, which was already pinking.  “Yes,” his voice rumbled against my skin.  My eyes fluttered closed to savor his touch and his voice.

I opened my eyes and stroked his cheek.  “Because you…care about me—more than anyone.  You just…” my voice trailed off.  I began to lose all train of thought.  _You won’t stop saving me._

“Harry?”  He whispered.

I put a finger over his lips.  He didn’t know how to react. 

It felt so erotic to trace his lip-line with my thumb.  I felt myself leaning in closer.

“You smell so good.”  I mumbled, looking into his captivating gaze.  Finally, I saw him smile.  God, it was so fucking beautiful.  He chuckled at me, then scoffed, trying to move away again.

I chuckled back as he did.  “You already knew that, didn’t you?”  I asked playfully.

His eyes were fiery.  “Oh yes,” he seethed.   I felt a chill run through me.  “Apparently I smell of sandalwood and ink.”

I couldn’t help but inch closer to the sound of his voice.  _What am I doing?  I…_

My heart started to race faster.  He placed his hand over mine, at first trying to move me away, but he froze.  He looked into my eyes, completely still, but he wore a confused look.

“…Do you taste like it, too?”  I thought aloud, in barely a whisper.  I hadn’t meant to say it, but it hardly mattered now. 

I had decided: the only way I’d know my true feelings is if I followed them, here and now.  Knowing Snape, I knew I’d never get another chance like this. 

Softly, I guided his chin so he would tilt his head just so.  “What are you…” he husked, but didn’t finish.

I then pressed my lips firmly to his, just resting there for a bit, slowly moving.  I melted into his touch.

He gruffed and gave me a long, sensual kiss, after swallowing my moan.

“You…do taste like sandlewood, but not ink...”  I said lowly before he took my mouth again, practically devouring me.

I whimpered loudly into his mouth, brushing my tongue against his lips.  I _needed_ more—it felt like I was on fire.

He opened his mouth as I thrust my tongue against his, tasting him.  I moaned in pleasure.  “Fucking hell...”  I whimpered between kissing him.

“Language.”  He grumbled.

“Shut up.”  I bantered back, grabbing the back of his head and kissing him in earnest.

He pushed me away, but we were both panting.  “That’s quite enough.”

I reached for him, but he moved back.  “Go back to your dormitory.”

I cocked my head to the side.  “But…”  _No…please…_

“You’ve satisfied your curiosity, have you not?”  He sneered.

My mouth dropped open, and tears began to form in my eyes.  “That’s not…what this was.”

“Then what was it, Harry?”  He sighed, as if waiting for bad news.

I frowned, holding back my tears.  “I…it just felt…right.  Like an instinct.”  I looked at his stunned face.

“Instinct?”  He blurted.  “To kiss _me_?”  He stood up frantically.

I nodded, also getting up.  “Well…I’ll admit that I wasn’t expecting to…erm…” a blush creeped up on my face.  “I wasn’t expecting to enjoy it as much as I did.  Actually, I don’t think I was expecting anything…it just…”

He put a hand over his forehead, sighing deeply.  “I’ve sexually assaulted a student.”

I shook my head.  “No!  I’m of age, but that doesn’t matter—“

“Yes, Potter, it _does_ matter!  I had my tongue down your throat for Merlin’s sake!”  He said, pacing.

I got in front of him and put my hands on his arms.  He finally stilled. 

He looked horrified.  “Please don’t make me go.  Not now, Severus.”  I coaxed, stroking his right arm through his robes.

He seemed unable to look away from me.  He gulped, whispering, “You can’t be serious, Potter.  Have you gone mad?”

I brought my hand up to his cheek, cupping it.  I saw his pupils dilate before he pinched his eyes shut.  He didn’t move away.

I stroked his cheek with my thumb.  I felt lightheaded, like I was on a cloud.  “Not to my recollection.”

He opened his eyes again in disbelief.  “It doesn’t bother you…how I look?  That I’m your professor?  Don’t you…hate me?”

I couldn’t believe how soft the man sounded.  I replied, “No, I don’t hate you.  I don’t think I ever did, really.  I just didn’t know you.”  I let my hand card through his hair.  “I like how you look…a lot, actually.”

Snape inhaled.  “What?”  He stopped, then said, “That can’t be true—not from the remarks you’ve given me over the years.”

I gave him a smile.  “I think your hair is soft…and your eyes…they’re expressive, like no one I’ve ever met.”  I saw his cheeks become of a pink tint. 

“That doesn’t change the fact that I’m old enough to be your guardian, Harry.”  He looked concerned.

“I know how old you are.”  I paused to stroke his bottom lip with my thumb.  “It doesn’t matter to me.  Age, I mean.  I just…”  I bit my lip.

“You…just?”  He enunciated each word delectably, pretending my thumb wasn’t on his mouth.

I licked my lips, tugging on his head to gesture him closer.  He surprisingly let me, and I was certain he felt how I felt, but he was scared.  It was in his eyes.

“Severus, I know you’re scared—I’m scared too.  I mean…these feelings are…surprising.  Strong feelings.  But…you like me, too.  Don’t you?”  I asked, hearing the unwanted plead in my voice.

He looked at me, unable to think properly.  “What would the world think, if The Boy Who Lived was going around kissing Death Eaters?”  He didn’t answer my question.

I looked at him with a serious expression.  “First of all, don’t call me that.  I hate it.  Second, you’re not a Death Eater.  Not anymore.  And we both know you became a spy for our side.”

His mouth tightened.  “Harry—do you even believe the things you’re saying?”  He said, close to me, in his cultured voice.

I swallowed.  “Damned right I believe it.  But I wasn’t finished.  Third…there isn’t anyone else, Death Eater or no.”  I looked at him lick his lips.

“You could have anyone if you so desired.”  He said, sounding much like an echo from his mind.

I tugged on him, stepping even closer.  “I don’t want anyone else.  How else can I convince you?”

He grabbed the side of my head and pressed his lips against mine, running his hands through my tousled hair.  I moaned as he pushed me against a door. 

His mouth was hot against mine, and demanding.  “Fuck,” I murmured, trying to undo his buttons. 

He pushed my hands up against the door, disabling me.  Instead, he swiped his tongue across my mouth, demanding entry. 

I opened my mouth as he thrust his tongue against mine.  It quickly became a heated battle between us—fiery and tender at the same time.

He parted from me to catch his breath—and I needed to catch mine, too. 

“I still do not understand—” he started, but I kissed his thought away, shoving my tongue in his mouth.

I pressed my erection up against his thigh and moaned.  I traced his erection—it was long, and thick.  I smiled against his mouth.  “It’s okay, Sev’rus…”

He grunted and kissed my neck.  “Harry…”

_Oh god_ , I thought, _the way he said my name…_

“Severus…” I found his pants button, undoing it. 

He kissed me, somehow pushing me back into his bedroom with force I’ve never seen.  I was swept away by him—and in the whirlwind, he laid me back on the bed, unbuttoning my shirt.

“The color green looks _delectable_ on you, Harry…” he said between passionate kisses, undoing the last button of my green shirt.  _He must have transfigured it…_

I smirked, using wandless magic to unbutton his robes slowly.  He looked down, stunned.  “You can perform wandless magic as well?”

I ripped off his jacket once it was unbuttoned.  “Yeah,” I husked, “it comes in handy.”

We were kissing, skin to skin, exploring each other.  My hands trailed down his chest, and his down my back.  I bit my lip, looking up at his gaze. 

It was dark—full of heat and surprise.  “You really…want me, too?”  I couldn’t believe what I was saying.  I’d finally gotten the man’s shirt off and I start to bloody ask him questions…

I watched his face.  At first, he seemed unaffected.  Covered by his typical façade—just a blank space.  _Maybe he doesn’t want me._   I remember thinking it, crisply, as if it was a knife piercing into every thought in my mind.

But then he slowly grazed my cheek with his hand—I leant into him.  His touch burned against my skin as I closed my eyes.  His touch felt like coming home.

He finally spoke, surprising me with his boy-like tone of voice, “I desire you, Harry.  I have no idea _why_ you would want someone like me—nevertheless…” he paused as I opened my eyes, “I might lose my job for saying this.  Merlin, what has it come to?  Yes, Potter,” he seethed heavily, “I _want_ you.  I want to fuck you senseless. I want to hear you scream in delirious pleasure as I look into your mesmerizing green eyes.  I want to make you _mine_.”  He licked his lips as I jolted against him in surprise.  I noticed his nipples were very hard.

I moaned, “Please…”

He continued, “I do trust that you will tell _no_ one of this.  Not even your Gryffindor friends.”  He looked at me with sincerity. 

I couldn’t remember how to speak for a moment.  “Oh Gods.  I won’t tell anyone.  Not a soul—living or dead.”  I traced his stomach muscles—not toned, but still sexy as hell.

He started again, “We can stop at any time—”  I didn’t let him finish.

I grabbed his erection through his pants—he let out a harsh breath, and then he clutched the sides of my face and kissed me hard.  I massaged his erection as he took my mouth—it made him kiss me deeper, and I liked it. 

I _liked_ Severus Snape kissing me.

I parted for air, “You know what _I_ want, Severus?”  His name sliced the air, causing him to clutch the back of my hair.  He waited for my response, just staring into my eyes—no longer a blank space—but rather, space filled with heated expressions and silent want.

He watched me as I wandlessly removed his pants, looking at him like he was some type of dessert.  The nerve of that man, licking his lips again at my actions.

I took off my glasses, throwing them somewhere, casting a vision enhancing spell.  Then, I dragged his black boxers down, eyeing his full, luscious shaft. 

“Gods…” I looked up at him—he was a little pink.  “You’re…I mean…”

He sighed, “I am average, Harry.”  But he was obviously pink still—embarrassed, perhaps?

I was stunned.  “No, you’re amazing.”  I moaned and felt it in my hand, squeezing it gently.  He cried out my name as if he was dying, “ _Potter_!”

“I want…”  I looked up at him with caring eyes.  “I want to suck you, Professor Snape.”  My eyes never left him as I opened my mouth to his large bulk.  His mouth dropped open—he ran a hand through his hair and bit his lip as I wrapped my lips around the tip of his cock.  He looked so delicious like this—pink in the cheeks, molten chocolate eyes, and freshly bitten lips.

I let my tongue swirl around the tip of his cock, tasting it.  My eyes fluttered closed as I concentrated on taking him in deeper.  He tasted of sweet tanginess and seductive musk—it felt amazing.  I took him in more and more, starting to suck a bit half-way down. 

I pulled up again, noticing his groan at the loss, but then he whimpered when I rolled his balls and took him even deeper.  I felt his hand on my head, shaking. 

My eyes opened up at him while I was sucking.  “So…beautiful.”  He muttered— _did he mean to say that?_   He flushed again, but all his talking made me want to take him all the way down—all the way to the root of his shaft.  I gagged at first, but I managed to suck him all the way down.

I was concentrating so hard, I heard him moan, snapping me back into reality.  “Oh—fuck!  P-Potter!”  His fingers intertwined in my ruffled hair, trying not to force me onto his bulk.  He could hardly help it.

I took a moment for breath, opening my eyes up to him and licking off all his precum, taking my time.  There was a lot of it—I guessed, since his cock was fucking ginormous, there _would_ be more. 

I wasn’t expecting him to pull me up by the hair and kiss me—harder than before.  He moaned deeply into my mouth and pressed my body up against his, one hand on my back, the other on my arse.  I swore I was spinning—were we spinning?  Then I felt him move me—kissed me all the way into his bedroom—with those remarkable lips. 

Finally, I found myself underneath him, watching him rip off my pants and pull them down.  He looked feral. 

“Gods…if I’d known you could kiss like that, I’d have—” He cut me off with another breathtaking kiss, my head resting on a fluffy pillow.  It felt like heaven.

He panted, “You’d have, what?  Have me rob the cradle?”  He wore a half-smile, half-sneer as he devoured my neck in kisses.  He seethed, still with his lips against my skin, “But I have you now—and I want to see how you _taste_.”  He pinned my hands to the bed with his own, as if I’d leave.  His tongue was all over me.

I looked up at his ceiling, then down at the man’s black hair.  I ran my fingers through it and jutted against him.  “My…fuck!  My cock isn’t…as impressive…”  I stumbled out, hardly able to focus as it was.

The truth was, I had _thought_ my cock was impressive…but after seeing _his_? 

He looked up at me, already sucking on one of my pert nubs.  He felt my erection through my boxers, raising one brow.  I resisted from screaming and settled for a moan.

"Do you mean to tell me that _this_ —” he squeezed my cock again, making me whimper, “isn’t impressive, Harry?” 

I looked into those onyx eyes and said, “Well…I like yours much better—”  _Probably because it’s about eight inches long…_

He put a finger to my lips, trailing the finger down my stomach.  “Shhh…” he silenced me.  “Harry—no one can control the length of their cock, just as no one can choose how tall they are.”  He captivated me, continuing, “I should be asking you why you want me—no one else would want to fuck me.  Not the ugly Potions Master at Hogwarts.”

I started to speak, “You’re wrong, Severus.  They’re insane not to want you—I see that now.  Maybe I used to believe you were someone else—but that doesn’t matter anymore.  Even if your cock was miniscule, I don’t think I’d care.”  He looked at me, dead in the face.  “I just want you.”  I finished.

“Harry—that’s what I’ve been trying to explain.”  He sighed, “Sex is more than the size of one’s genitals.”

I gulped, “So…you…don’t care?”

Then the man took off my boxers, releasing my straining cock.  He collected my erection and stroked it once.  “God!  Fuck!”  I panted, arching off the bed. 

“Oh,” he sneered, “I care, Harry.  I like your cock very much.”  He smirked at me.  “I still think I need to convince you that your cock is impressive, don’t you, Mister Potter?”

I couldn’t believe what he was saying—but then he just took me in his mouth, and I couldn’t think at all.  I screamed in pleasure, “ _S-Snape!_ ”

He moaned around the tip of my cock—I panted, watching him suck me up and down.  His eyes burned into mine as he masterfully bobbed all the way to the root of my enlarged prick.  Then he massaged my balls…

“Wait!  I can’t!”  I screamed, a little louder than I’d have liked to.  I had zero control over…well, anything. 

He brought his mouth up for air, stroking my cock to its full length.  “Oh…but Harry, this is what _I_ want.  You see…”  He paused to lick the underside of my cock, making me shiver.  “I want to suck you until you cum in my mouth, brat.”  I grasped the sheets at my sides, not exactly sure why the insults turned me on so much.  He smirked, continuing, “And then…” he growled, “I want to cum _inside_ you, while your cock sprays us with its hefty seed…” 

All I could do was whimper when he sucked my entire length, _all_ the way down.

I put my hands on his head, arching again.  “ _Gods yes!_ ”  I screamed loudly, shaking and convulsing as I let my cum stream down his throat. 

And he drank me down—licked me clean.  It was too much for me to process. 

He freed my cock from his hot mouth, hovering over me as I panted.  He stroked my cheek—I saw the care in his eyes before he took my mouth in a kiss.  I wrapped my arms around him, feeling his hard length against mine. 

“Severus…”  I murmured against his lips, toying with his tongue in my mouth.  I would have thought my cock was spent…but I felt it harden against his. 

He moaned gloriously in my mouth.  “Harry…the things I want from you…is it too much?”  He asked me with his brows furrowed. 

I smiled at him, kissing away his worry.  Then, I dragged my teeth down his neck.  “Mmm…no _Sir._ ”

He shivered and muttered some sort of lubrication spell.  He smirked at me, “Sir?”  He chuckled once. 

I chuckled with him.  “Erm…sorry.  Just kind of slipped out.”

“Oh, no, Mister Potter,” he seethed in that sexy voice, “don’t be sorry.”

He kissed my chest, all the way down to my cock—licking my hard member.

“Spread your legs for me, Harry…”  He said.  I spread them wide—he looked at me, appearing a little hesitant. 

“What is it?”  I asked a little nervously. 

“It will feel…strange at first.  It will sting a bit.  Do you trust me?”  He asked.

I looked into his gentle eyes.  “Severus…I trust you.  More than anyone else.  I know it’ll hurt a bit…that’s what the books said.”  I pinked a little.  “I’m sorry…I haven’t…”

He came up to kiss me deeply.  He brushed his tongue against mine.  “Harry, don’t be sorry that this is your first time.  I am quite certain that you’ll enjoy this…”  I felt one of his fingers against the rim of my arse.

“Is this…I mean, have you done this before?”  I asked tentatively. 

He nodded, “Much time has passed since, but yes.”  He pressed his finger against me again.

I jolted back a little.  “Oh!” 

He kissed me again, teasing the ring of muscle with a lubricated fingertip.  I was so caught up in the kiss, I didn’t realize I’d let him in.

It felt…strange.  Then, he added another finger, starting to stretch me.  “Alright?”  He asked softly.  I nodded, “Keep going.”

He kissed my neck as he probed my arse.  It was alright.  The books said that it would feel better…

I gasped as he brushed his finger against what I guessed was my prostate.  “S-S-everus!”  I managed to groan.  He made the same movement while stretching me out, making me completely delirious.  I grabbed him by the hair, pulling his lips to meet mine.  I devoured those lips in front of me as he kept hitting that same spot, making me whimper each time.

He finally murmured a spell to slick his cock with lubricant.  “Harry—spread your legs wide again for me.”  He said in a low growl. 

I whimpered, just wanting to feel that sensation again.  “Oh please…”  I moaned, arching up.  He chuckled at my eagerness.

I felt the tip of his cock at my entry.  It was as if those big onyx eyes were looking into my soul as Severus Snape pushed his cock into the tight hole of my muscle.  “Oh…Harry…”  He moaned deeply, biting his lip.

My mouth was agape as he pushed a little farther.  I put my hands on his arse…the sensation burned a little. 

I felt his cock push more and more inside me—what an erotic thought—and I stared at his beautiful face.  I couldn’t believe that I thought him any less than gorgeous before today…perhaps I hadn’t.  Perhaps I’d always known that his porcelain skin was perfect against his black raven hair, that his smirk was quick but somehow mysteriously sexy…that his robes flowing in Potions Class had shown his elegance, his precise movements.  Perhaps I had always known that his eyes burned with passion never spoken—yearning to be uncovered. 

His cock was certainly full inside my arse, and as soon as he opened his eyes at me, I knew we were feeling the same thing.  Passion.  Lust. 

… _Love_? 

He moved, just a little, but with that eloquent precision that drove me mad.  I heard myself scream in pleasure, panting, watching the fire behind his eyes burn into my gaze.  I liked his cock brushing my prostate. 

“More!”  I said—and that was all I _could_ say.  He was at a loss for words—his mouth was lax, and he slowly pulled out, then did that same precise movement.

“Oh-god!” I yelped, pushing back.  I couldn’t take it anymore.  I came undone, moving harder against that thick bulk within me. 

He laced his arms around my legs, grabbed my hips, and thrusted once in earnest.  He let out the most feral growl I’ve ever heard from a man. 

“Harry,” he hissed, “Harry—oh yes, Harry…”  His teeth were gritted against each other as he was obviously holding back from plummeting into my virgin arse.

“Severus!”  I got his attention—his chest all sweaty, along with his forehead.  He looked down at me almost pleading.

He gasped for air after I said the words, “Fuck me faster…harder…P-professor Snape!”

He moaned a low guttural growl, digging his fingers into my hips.  “As you wish, Mister Potter…”

He slammed into me _hard_ , then I screamed.  He did it again, his eyes rolled back.  I screamed again.  I kept screaming, pleading, whimpering everything I’d never thought I’d say. 

The thrusts got faster in pace.  I was arching off the bloody bed, just loving the feeling of being taken.  My virginity was being taken by the most beautiful man I’d ever known. 

He stroked my cheek—I must have said something aloud. 

I then realized what was coming out of my mouth, in time with each thrust, “ _Snape—you---are—so—beautiful—take—me…”_

He carefully grabbed me by the arse, holding me pressed against his chest, his cock still inside me.  Mine twitched against his skin.

“Mister Potter…” he whispered alluringly in my ear, “ride my cock, you eager Gryffindor.”  He paused as I shuddered, being flipped onto him as he laid back. 

He ran a hand through my hair.  I was sitting on his cock when I murmured, “Like riding a broomstick…Professor Snape’s broomstick…”

He groaned as I lifted up and slammed down on his cock, aiming directly against my prostate.  I yelped in pleasure and he moaned, “Yes, Harry,” seething again, “I rather like seeing you like this, pleading for my cock, telling me more—”

He paused, catching his breath as I swallowed his cock in my arse, “It is yours to take, Harry.”

I could feel my pupils dilate and my senses skyrocket when I reacted to his words.  I lifted up, and slammed back down.  Licking my lips, he was touching my chest, his other hand on my hip.  I began to leverage myself, putting both my hands on his lower chest so I could hold on.

I bounced once, watching my cock bounce with me.  I didn’t expect myself to growl, but I did, and I said, “ _You are mine!  Mine!_ ”

I said it as I bounced again and again, taking his body with me in the air. 

_Bounce,_ “You,” _bounce_ , “are,” _bounce,_ “MINE!”  I screamed it, it felt so bloody good.  It felt like nothing in my wildest fantasies. 

His cock brushed against my prostate, and he held me in place—I watched his eyes close and his body began to convulse.

Suddenly he flipped me over and was slamming into me harder.  His somewhat greasy hair was swaying back and forth as he arched up inside me, hunched over, burying his cock in my needy hole to the very hilt. 

He was gasping wildly and ramming inside, so bloody fast.  I was screaming incoherent things.

My eyes were fixed on his as I came—his cock buried inside me, like it lived there.  My entire body felt pleasure—every nerve ending, every cell.  As if intimate contact could run through my veins, I felt myself being pounded into the fluffy mattress—and the only thing I felt was love.

His eyes turned even darker—and he looked like he could plead if I’d asked him too—when my streams of cum shot up my chest, again and again, once I came on my chin.

He opened his mouth, “That’s…” He didn’t look snide, or even that much older than me in that moment.  He just looked so…uncontrolled.  He took in a wild breath, holding me close as he hunched into me again, pounding deeply.  “So…so good.  _Harry—_ ”

I touched his angelic cheek, probably looking even more erotic with cum on my chin.  My fingers burned onto his skin.  I whispered to him, wanting him, “Come inside me, Severus…please just come inside me.”

He lunged into me in one stroke and screamed.  His face looked like it had seen heaven.

I felt the hotness well up inside my needy hole.  The liquid filled me so much, there was some leaking out of my arse.

He whimpered like he was an animal in raw need, and I came again just from his voice and the sensation of his cock filling me.  I could feel my body sucking him in for more—it felt so _right_.

He looked down at me—at the streams of cum on my chest.  He looked into my eyes as if I wasn’t Harry Potter: the Boy Who Lived.  He looked at me with a genuine, beautiful smile, and he licked the cum off of my chin…and he kissed me very, very deeply.

The kiss was sloppy—lazy, as we were both so worn out.

His cock slowly pulled out of my arse—I could feel the cum coming out of my hole.

Even so, I kept kissing him, hoping that he felt the same way.  Hoping that I’d never wake up from this dream. 

Finally, he parted from me.  He had the most boyish expression—as if his walls had been broken down.  “Harry…I must ask…how are you feeling?”

I smiled the widest I’d felt in _such_ a long time.  I giggled furiously, embarrassed at my reaction. 

But I heard him chuckle—and I didn’t know anything could sound so beautiful.  The man had a perfect smile, _and_ a perfect laugh?  But he never shows it to anyone—anyone but me.

I kissed him chastely.  “Oh, Severus.  There are no words to…say how I feel.” 

He waved his hand and performed a cleaning spell—which was good, because it was getting a bit sticky.  He lay down next to me, continuing to look into my eyes, entangling our legs together, stroking my cheek.

“There is…no pain?”  He asked, uncertain, even in his lax state.

I shook my head, “No.  There was next to no pain.  Though I’m sure I’ll feel sore tomorrow—but it was worth it.”  He bit his lip and moaned—I blushed at his reaction.

“What about…I mean…how are you feeling?”  I dared to ask.  Perhaps I wasn’t all that great…

But he smirked at me wickedly, “Do you even have to ask?”  I smiled, nodding.  “Very well, then.  Harry…that was…the most erotic, yet special, experience I have ever had with another person.”  He said softly, towards the end, looking down into the depths of my soul.

I caught my breath.  “Oh.  Erm…wow.”  I wasn’t expecting that from him.  But that gaze made me spill all my emotions in front of this man.  “I think…”  I stopped myself from saying the next three words.  I couldn’t believe I had been so careless!  What if he didn’t feel the same way?

Instead, I kissed him very deeply, moaning into his mouth.  He kissed me back just as passionately.

He whispered in my ear, “I think, too, Potter.”

I inhaled.  “You do?”

He nodded, “I trust that you can keep this night to yourself?”  He stroked my cheek, looking at my lips.

“Oh—yes.  Of course.  You can trust me.”  I blurted out, knowing it had been too good to be true.  The man didn’t want a relationship.  This was just a one-time thing after all.

“I…don’t know how to go about this, Harry.  Forgive me if I am off the mark, but…would you be interested in…pursuing this further?”  He asked, as if he was reading from a bloody textbook.

I blushed, “Please.  I mean, erm, yes Severus.  I want…” I paused, looking straight into his eyes, as if I realized something.  “I want you.”

When he kissed me this time, it was as if there had been a silent bond—some sort of connection. 

“Do you…” I started, trailing off, not knowing how to ask.

“Yes,” he hissed, “of course I want you, Harry.”  I smiled, feeling my eyes getting heavier. 

I yawned, despite myself.  “Oh—the little lion is getting tired from all the fucking.”  He said—not in a sadistic way, but rather, a light and sarcastic way.

I laughed, cuddling up to his chest.  He summoned a blanket and draped it over us.  I could feel him smell my hair, just holding me.

I quite liked being held by him.  Firm chest, warm and safe.  He murmured into my hair—something I couldn’t hear.  I fell asleep, drifting off into my pleasant slumber.

Later, he told me what he said in that moment.

_I love you_.

 


End file.
